


Moonbeam

by unassumingvenusaur



Series: SRCU (Sahri Rhoshaan Cinematic Universe) [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/F, Gen, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Late Night Conversations, Mental Health Issues, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Pre-Relationship, mid-Shadowbringers, not as emphasized as in Her Name tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28202841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unassumingvenusaur/pseuds/unassumingvenusaur
Summary: Sahri is cracking under the weight of the light, and Y'shtola is out to make her acknowledge it.
Relationships: Y'shtola Rhul/Warrior of Light
Series: SRCU (Sahri Rhoshaan Cinematic Universe) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2058933
Kudos: 14





	Moonbeam

**Author's Note:**

> Here's another thing I wrote mid-5.0 cleaned up, and my first attempt at writing Sahri w/Y'shtola besides! If you read any of my other Y'shtola fics this is where the nickname "moonbeam" comes from.
> 
> Set the night b/w the arrival from Rak'tika and the sin eaters' invasion of Lakeland--tight timeframe but something Sahri desperately needed at the time. The fic goes into it but Sahri's basically been goin through Some Shit since late 4.x.
> 
> [This](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28115190) is the letter mentioned in this fic that serves as the impetus for this scene--wanted to get that up before posting this since it pretty directly relies upon it.
> 
> The name of the Warrior of Light in this fic is Sahri Rhoshaan.

The peaceful dark of Sahri’s room in the Pendants does not last for long this night, sounds of tossing and turning breaking the silence. Sahri turns to her right side and screws her eyes shut, but sleep does not take. Turn. The left side fares no better. No matter her position, light pounds within her breast, and her mind whirs with questions and fears. Sahri falls slack to her back, resigned to a night of staring at the ceiling. A knock at her door nearly causes her to leap.

“Are you still awake, Sahri?”

…Y’shtola’s voice? Sahri rises from her bed, counting on the shift in her aether to make her wakefulness known. She glances around the room and retrieves her robe, quickly throwing it around her. A pointless gesture, she realizes, but one that feels appropriate nonetheless. Sahri opens the door, and surely enough, there stands Y’shtola, still fully dressed in her eye-catching sorceress’ attire. Y’shtola smiles at the sight of her—and before she has time to think, Sahri feels herself smiling back. The Archon’s smile was perhaps the most infectious she’d ever known. Defying all odds, a small bubble of mirth floats into Sahri’s chest.

“If it isn’t Master Matoya.” Sahri leans against the doorframe. “To what do I owe the honor?”

Clearly amused, Y’shtola shakes her head. “Pray do not call me that now that we have left Rak’tika. From your lips, it sounds passing strange.” She takes a step forward. “Might I come in?”

Sahri nods and opens the door wider for Y’shtola to enter. After scanning the room, Y’shtola takes a seat at Sahri’s dining table, gesturing Sahri to sit across from her. She ponders her choice of words before she begins.

“I must apologize for the imposition,” she decides upon. “I know I bid you recuperate from our encounter with the Warden.”

Sahri shakes her head. “No, it’s alright. Did something happen?” She desperately hoped not--she hadn’t managed a wink of rest since the group returned to the Crystarium from Rak’tika earlier that day.

“…Nay, no new developments,” Y’shtola clarifies to Sahri’s relief. And yet, her demeanour betrayed a most serious motivation. “I simply realized this was a rare chance to get you alone for an extended period. I wished to speak.”

“I doubt I was going to get much sleep, anyhow,” Sahri tells her with a slight shrug. Y’shtola’s eyes narrow at her.

“…Does that have to do with our earlier conversation about the Wardens’ light, by chance?” Her words send Sahri’s heartbeat scurrying off-course. “Being in a hurry, I didn’t have much time to hear you respond.” Sahri averts her eyes. Though Y’shtola had lost her vision all those years ago, her keen insight into the truth of a person’s heart remained unchanged.

“…That, and Emet’s words,” Sahri concedes. She is grateful that Y’shtola chooses not to question the familiar address for the Ascian. 

“Yes…They plague my mind as well.” Y’shtola pauses, as if prompting Sahri to continue. Though there was much and more she could say, Sahri offers nothing. The woman presses on. “And how do you feel about it all? Emet-Selch’s story, the Lightwardens, the plight of the First at large?”

Sahri rests her head on her hand. “…I fear Emet’s story strikes a troubling chord of truth in my mind,” she admits. “As for the Wardens…” With the remains of the willpower the light had sapped from her, she forces a smile to her face. “Well, I feel fine. And it’s not as if I have much choice but to keep moving forward—for the First and the Source both.”

“…I suppose you do not.” Y’shtola furrows her brow and taps her cheek, Sahri hyperaware of her scrutinizing gaze. Her every muscle tenses, but unfortunately, Y’shtola shows no signs of stopping.

“…And how has your conjury been availing you, as of late?” she asks next. “I may have found it insufficient, but your mastery of the White continues to impress day upon day.” A smirk grows on her face. “‘Tis quite an irony that the legendary Warrior of Darkness combats light’s tyranny with light of her own. One would think it ineffective, but you stand as proof otherwise.”

“I…don’t think it’s so strange.” They may both use light, but Sahri’s powers were nothing like those of the sin eaters’. They...couldn’t be. “I’ve never thought of the light I weave as that of such glaring day. It is the gentle light of the moon and stars which gives the night form, is it not? I cast away sun with the beams of the moon.” Sahri pauses. Perhaps that was a bit much. “At least...that’s how I see it. I’m not sure what you think.”

Y’shtola chuckles. “What I think is that you may be spending too much time around Urianger, _moonbeam_.” 

If she didn’t know better, Sahri would swear Y’shtola was watching the red creep onto her face. Still, Y’shtola’s smile makes her feel light—her presence was ever a balm for Sahri’s soul.

“M-Mayhap so.” Sahri scratches her cheek shyly. Yet the light mood is short-lived, as it is not long before Y’shtola’s face turns serious once again.

“…Is there aught strange about drawing upon the light of this realm?” 

Sahri nibbles her lip. “…No,” she lies. “Not that I have noticed.” Y’shtola’s deep sigh catches Sahri by surprise. The woman folds her hands and rests her forehead on them, pensive. Nervous, Sahri tilts her head. “Are you well?”

Y’shtola fixes her eyes on Sahri’s own. Sahri cannot help but feel a pang of anxiety.

“Moreso than you, I would imagine.” Her tone is unflinchingly even. “I’d hoped you would have been forthcoming on your own, but I suppose I cannot blame you for staying guarded. I will be plain. The other night, I happened upon the letter you wrote to your mother Lukah.”

Sahri’s heart sinks as a ball of iron to the pit of her stomach. Her mouth falls open, but it takes more than a few moments for any sound to emerge. Y’shtola waits patiently.

“You…saw that?” Sahri asks, voice uncharacteristically weak. 

“Aye. And I truly am sorry for the invasion of privacy.” The apology is not idle--Sahri can sense its sincerity. “It would seem you fell asleep shortly after finishing writing,” Y’shtola explains, “for it was laying out right next to you. I was idly curious what you might be writing, and what I saw at a glance proved too alarming to ignore.”

Sahri can feel herself withering under Y’shtola’s glare. She sinks back into her seat.

“…I,” is the extent of what she can muster. Perhaps in response to the unusual sight of Sahri so shaken, Y’shtola’s expression softens dramatically. There is a gentle concern in her eyes Sahri is not certain she’s ever seen.

“I now feel like a fool, for so quickly declaring you had not changed,” Y’shtola says with regret. “You have changed as much as any of us—perhaps moreso—and in a much abbreviated timeframe. That much would be clear even without the letter. You…you are not well. Gloom pervades your essence.” Y’shtola’s hand slides forward across the table, attempting to reach Sahri’s own. “When did you ever resign yourself to your death, my friend?”

Sahri trembles. Y’shtola had her pinned down, and with kindness of all weapons. She…she couldn’t…Her self-control was rapidly failing.

“…It's only fair, isn’t it?” Sahri poses to the woman. “You all suffered this world for years in my stead. Now that I’m here, the balance needs to be redressed.”

Y’shtola’s frown is deep-set. “You speak as if there’s some form of logic to that, but I refuse to humour it. You have had no control over any of this situation, Sahri.” She remains ever firm.

Sahri shakes her head repeatedly. “No…No, if I had not resisted when the Exarch first called…” Her vision blurs with welling tears. “If I had only given myself to his summons, perhaps…Perhaps…”

“Listen to yourself, Sahri,” Y’shtola cuts her off. “There’s no guarantee that would have changed anything. You know that.”

Sahri’s fists are balled in her lap. Her lip quivers. She cannot…No, she cannot keep this up any longer…A tear drops, then another, and soon they flow in a cascade.

“I-It should…” She sniffles. “It should have…It should have been me, Y’shtola. It should…sh-should…” 

The quintessentially stoic Sahri falls into sobs--a sight precious few of her colleagues had ever witnessed. Was her face not buried in her hands, she would have seen Y’shtola’s eyes widen in shock. After a few false starts at speaking, the woman instead decides to stand and walk to Sahri’s side. A light hand on Sahri’s shoulder indicates her presence. Sahri looks up to see arms outstretched and a reassuring smile. She breaks.

“Sh-Shtola…!”

Sahri dives at Y’shtola’s chest, almost throwing off her balance, and clings tightly as she begins to weep in earnest. Y’shtola closes her arms to hold her.

“Sh-Shtola…” Sahri’s tears draw a hiccup. “Shtola…Sh-Shtola…Shtola……”

The concern and surprise in Y’shtola’s eyes slowly morphs into a fierce protectiveness. Her hold on Sahri tightens, and a hand reaches up to slowly pet her hair.

“There, there now. I have you.” Y’shtola remains silent as she lets Sahri work through her tears, giving her a stable place to cry on. When Sahri’s tears begin to die down, she speaks up. “Won’t you tell me what is on your mind? Crying will accomplish little if you do not address the root cause.”

There is a long pause. “It feels….small, to talk about this,” Sahri eventually says, “when you all—”

Y’shtola was not having it. “I’m not here to play a game of comparisons. Please, speak freely.” Sahri closes her eyes, giving herself a few fleeting moments of contemplation before responding. 

“Watching you all…fall one by one,” she starts, “not knowing what was happening…I tried to keep myself together. For Alisaie’s sake. I…did not want to reflect her fear back at her.” Y’shtola smiles, and Sahri feels a fuzziness in her chest.

“I have to wonder if most would believe that such a vaunted warrior—be it of Light or Darkness—is an incurable mother hen.” Her tease begets a most unexpected sound--a giggle, through Sahri’s tears. Y’shtola’s hold turns even tighter.

“I suppose it’s not a quality most would expect…” Sahri concedes before her tentative smile fades. “…When…when Alisaie fell…and I was left alone…Y’shtola, I couldn’t—I couldn’t hold myself steady any longer. I promised her I would not leave her alone…That I never would…” Her trembling grows more pronounced. “But I was powerless to stop her from being torn away. Why couldn’t I have been taken with her, I thought. I prayed every hour my time was next.”

Sympathy floods across Y’shtola’s face. “I…I can scarcely imagine…However difficult my time has been in the First, I at least knew I was not alone in it.” She presses her lips into a thin line. “Dare I ask how long the time was between Alisaie’s summoning and yours?”

Sahri takes a deep breath. “It...was about a week--maybe two--after Alisaie fell that the Exarch finally made contact with me, telling me to seek out his beacon. …His timing almost costing me my life, given I was in the midst of dueling Elidibus,” she adds. Sahri feels a fist clench at her back.

“Damn him.” The contempt in Y’shtola’s voice is unmistakable. “He nearly doomed both our worlds with his reckless casting.” She sighs, regaining some calm. “ …You say he merely made contact, though. How much longer was it til you actually departed?”

Leave it to Y’shtola to pinpoint the gaps she intentionally left in her words. Sahri rises from Y’shtola’s chest, solemn. Y’shtola is hesitant to release her, but gives, letting her arms fall. Her left hand travels down Sahri’s arm, and when their hands meet Sahri instinctively takes it. In a matter of moments, their fingers are intertwined. Y’shtola holds her hand no less protectively than she did the woman herself.

“…Between…contacting the Ironworks, organizing the expedition to the Crystal Tower, putting the operation into motion…” Sahri grits her teeth. “It was…a few months, all told.” 

Y’shtola’s sympathy returns to her face in full. “ _Months_ , that guilt festered, with none to assuage it. No fair observer could blame you for being affected by that.” Coming from her, Sahri almost believes it. She places her free hand on her chest.

“I…suppose not,” she admits. “It was difficult to think such at the time, when my mind was consumed with thoughts of you all…” Y’shtola frowns but does not interrupt. “When the Exarch informed me _years_ had passed for you since your summoning, that guilt started up again with a startling new intensity. So much…that seeing Alisaie and Alphinaud again hardly did anything to slow it. Those two…” Sahri shakes her head and smiles sadly. “Those two have a strength I could not have imagined possessing at their age.”

“They’re resilient children, to be sure,” Y’shtola agrees. 

Sahri’s smile turns sadder. “…I knew something was wrong, immediately, when I slew that first Lightwarden.” A glint of passion sparks in her eyes. “But knowing how many lives it would save…Seeing the people rejoice at the return of a long forgotten night…It didn’t matter, I decided. This was the only way to save those I love, and countless more souls I’d never know.”

Sahri meets Y’shtola’s gaze, but her expression is far away.

“I’m not afraid of dying, Y’shtola. Not if it is for a purpose. I know you understand how that feels.”

Y’shtola closes her eyes to reflect. “…I do. I feel much the same about my own life.” Sahri leans ever so slightly forward, passion growing.

“So you understand why—”

Y’shtola opens her eyes once more to reveal a steely gaze.

“But, Sahri,” she interrupts with some force. “There is a difference between being unafraid of death and quietly hoping for it. Between calculated sacrifice and meek acceptance.” The false smile falls from Sahri’s face and her eyes fly wide. Y’shtola’s words had hit their mark.

“I…I don’t…” she weakly attempts to deny.

“Then why do you hide the symptoms?” Y’shtola presses. “I know you’ve struggled to control the light swirling inside of you. A task made all the more difficult by an unstable emotional state, I would have to imagine.” Sahri bites her lip, concerningly hard. She closes her eyes and, after a few moments, begins to speak.

“…Did…did you know I can no longer control wind and earth with my conjury?” she asks in a quiet voice.

Y’shtola furrows her brow. “Pardon?”

Sahri opens her eyes and slowly meets Y’shtola’s. “Since I absorbed the aether of the first Lightwarden…I have not managed a single Stone or Aero spell,” she confesses. “It always comes out as light. I believe...the elements may become over-aspected with light as they pass through my body. Attempting to channel some of the red magic I know resulted in utter failure, as well. Light...is the only element I find myself with a grasp of, these days…” 

Y’shtola’s eyes flare. “That…That is _extremely_ concerning, Sahri. You should have told someone as soon as you noticed!”

“…Perhaps.”

Y’shtola’s face is overtaken by fury. “No. No more ‘perhaps.’ I don’t know when the Scions collectively decided to give up on you, yourself included, but damn me if I’ll have any part in it.”

“Shtola…” Sahri is thoroughly caught off her guard.

“You can fight this as any foe you’ve faced, Sahri, but not on your own,” Y’shtola continues, unrelenting. “It is far too soon to declare it your time and move on. You have much yet to offer to this world—and our own. You owe it to _yourself_ not to simply roll over. Just allow me to help you.”

Despite the woman’s force--no, _because_ of it--finds her heart slowly giving way to her conviction. To the comfort of the woman’s words. As Sahri’s resistance fades, the passion on Y’shtola’s face quells into an encouraging smile--one that stirs a swell of emotion.

“Besides…I’m not done with you, Sahri Rhoshaan,” Y’shtola tells her. “I will make a scholar of you yet, I swear it. I forbid you to die before I’ve accomplished that. You have too clever a head on your shoulders to let that potential go to waste.” 

Disbelief breaks across Sahri’s face—but slowly, surely, as Y’shtola continues to smile at her, her lips quirk ever upward. A giggle slips free, as well as a few stray tears she did not know she had left.

“Y-Y’shtola…Heehee. Y’shtola, you—You’re so…Ahaha. Hahahaha!” Sahri loses herself in her first full-belly laughing fit she’s had since the fateful day Thancred fell slack in that Ala Mhigan conference room. Y’shtola looks on, satisfied—and squeezes the hand she still holds. Her face only briefly flashes with surprise when Sahri pulls her into a hug anew.

“…Thank you…Thank you, Y’shtola.” Sahri lays against her friend’s shoulder, sighing in contentment when Y’shtola’s arms wrap around her back once more. “Thank you. I know….you had no obligation to do this…”

Y’shtola shakes her head. “I’m not the type to insert myself into other people’s private matters, as I’m certain you’ve noticed. But…” Her smile grows fonder. “It seemed to me you needed some help, moonbeam.” Sahri giggles at the teasing nickname and pulls back from the hug—instead holding both Y’shtola’s hands in hers.“...I did need it.” She hopes her gratefulness is clear. “And…I suspect I may need it again. I have a horrible feeling our troubles in this land have hardly begun…”

“That is always how it goes,” Y’shtola sighs. “And I doubt we’ve even exhausted your current troubles. I’ve not heard a word from you about the young Minfilia, for one.”

“…Ah.” Sahri grimaces at the unpleasant memories. “Yes, that is…a beast of its own.” A squeeze of her hand draws her back to Y’shtola’s soothing presence. 

“Well, I hereby dedicate myself to being your personal sounding board when you might need it,” the woman reassures her. Sahri bursts into a new smile, eyes bright. “It’s the least I can give for all you have done, and t’would be cruel to leave such a dear friend to her own suffering unabated. I expect the inner peace will help reduce the pain of the light within you, as well. Speaking of…”

Y’shtola pulls away and ruffles through her personal effects to reveal a small notebook and a quill. She takes a seat at the table and beckons Sahri to join her.

“I want you to tell me everything—and I do mean everything—strange you have felt since the day you first absorbed Lakeland’s Lightwarden.” In but a moment, she’d donned the demeanor of a scholar. “Spare no detail. It will give me a foundation with which to understand the long-term nature of your aetheric corruption, as well as its potential mitigation. And, with all my years of accumulated knowledge, I would be surprised if I could not find ways to give you some immediate relief…”

Sahri looks upon her, heart bubbling with a new hope—and perhaps some other feelings besides. She takes her seat next to Y’shtola.

“Very well. What I first noticed…”

  
  


…………………………………………………………………………………………..

Sahri sleeps soundly on her bed, Y’shtola watching her thoughtfully. Some simple aetheric infusions had served calming enough to allow the woman to find rest, but her longer term prognosis was more foreboding than Y’shtola had realized. Still—she was not going to give up on her so easily. And she had served her role tonight to convince the woman not to give up on herself.

…Seeing Sahri’s soul laid so bare…A new affection prods at her to keep her vigil lasting the night, but she knows it will help neither. Instead, she bends to place a hand on Sahri’s head and speaks in a quiet voice.

“…Goodnight, moonbeam. Don’t stop fighting.”

**Author's Note:**

> It really struck me as weird that Stone and Aero get replaced with Glare and Dia for ShB WHM so my brain decided to make that part of the story lol
> 
> The whole "Y'shtola wants to make Sahri a scholar" thing comes from an idea for a little scenario during 3.x, where Y'shtola invites Sahri on a little research expedition to the Dravanian Hinterlands due to their mutual interest in conjury. Y'shtola teaches her some stuff & finds she has a head for it. The whole entrusting the WoL to solve the puzzles in the Ronkan ruins in 5.0 really furthered that idea too, that she respects her intellect a lot. Miiiight fic that too at some point we'll see


End file.
